


I'll Follow You Into the Dark

by irishboy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cancer, Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishboy/pseuds/irishboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' been advised to write letters to Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letter 1

Wednesday, November 12.

Dear Harry,

Mum says I should write what I'm feeling so I don't bother you much. You're already under so much stress and I don't want to add to that. I visited you today, you looked like you were doing worse but I didn't tell you. You said you missed your hair and I laid with you until you feel asleep, rubbing your scalp. Even after, I stayed doing my coursework past 10:30. A Levels are coming soon, I'm nervous but not scared. I plan to stay here, around you, wherever that may be. Do you remember when we talked about moving to London after college? You found an appartment we could rent, it was so cute, you were 15. I miss those days, where everything was possible and nothing couldn't be pursued. You wanted to be a teacher for primary students, I wanted to be a sexy janitor at your school where we could fall in love and I could bring you lunch everyday. You liked that idea. 

We started listening to music a couple days ago and you love the songs by The Artic Monkeys. We went to see them when we were 14, remember? I didn't know anyone else who liked them so I made an announcement on whatever social network that was popular and you replied .2 seconds later. I think that's how we met. That, or I might have stepped on your foot once in the halls. We've been inseperable since.

Chemo has made you tired, I can feel it. You always tell me that you feel fine but you never leave your bed anymore. When you first got diagnosed you hated the hospital and right after treatment we'd eat on the picnic table across for the building, facing away because you hated even seeing it so much. You don't have enough energy to hate anything anymore I suppose. Talking has become a chore, we don't say many things, it's usually quiet. I know you still love me because you always smile when I come in.

I had art class today. My hands are covering in smudges or blue and green and black and white. You used to joke about me murdering someone because they were always so dirty when I visited you. I'm painting a photo of you, it's not good by any means but it's the thought that counts. It's taken me the three years we've been together to realize just how many shades of green are in your eyes. Just how pale and flawless your skin is, just how many colors of brown the light can form. Painting calms me down, makes me less nervous about A Levels and less afraid of the future. Watching two colors mix together reminds me of you and me, we come from two different sides of the tracks (color families) but we mix and form a beautiful crimson or deep purple or bright orange. I love it when we 'mix', whether it be a simple smirk or a kiss. Or even a touch in a place that only we're allowed to. 'Mixing' used to be your favorite thing to do, I sort of miss it but I'm just happy that I can still see you smile when I kiss the back of your hand.

When I was younger I knew I was odd. All of the children in my class grew up with a mom and a dad and so did I. All the children, when asked to describe their future, would reply 'I want to be a (whatever) and marry a (person of the opposite gender).'. I don't know why I'm telling this story. It doesn't matter, but oh well. I colored pictures of the future, always a brown square house with a red triangle roof, green grass, blue sky and two stick figures. Two red shirts, two pairs of black shoes and two sets of trousers. After some kid ripped up my drawing and said I'd 'made a mistake and drew two boys instead of a girl and a boy' I pushed away all those feelings. I felt ashamed for making a mistake of such large proportion so I grew up searching for girls to like. Fortunately I never found one. Alternatively I found you. We kissed for the first time during the song 'Ritz to Rubble' by the Artic Monkeys. My lips were embarassingly chapped and this was my first kiss so I did care about the state of hydration of them. You, on the other hand, tasted like the drink we split on the bus to the venue. Soon afterwards, you got behind me and we deliberately began to rub your groin again'st my ass. You've always been a tease. I remember kissing you a dozen more times that night and you possibly groped me while sing along to 'Fluorescent Adolesence'. From that point on I decided that I didn't make a mistake and that two sets of trousers were just as good as one. Not because of the groping but because I liked you more than I had compared to every single other girl that I tried to convince myself that I liked.

To make this even more embarassing, I wanked to that for months after we began going out, even though we slowly but surely got closer and closer to third base and well figurativly, a home run. Jesus, that was cheesier than it meant to be. As a rundown, I just want to talk about you and us and everything forever, no matter what. I want to be with you forever. Harry, I pray for you to God every night that the Chemotherapy is working because I know it is. I feel it. I haven't been a proper Christian and doesn't it still count if you admit your sins? Hey God, sorry for being gay and having sex, well actually not so sorry but whatever. I know I broke one of the ten commandments but it's with you and I love you more than every word written since fucking hieroglyphics. I will wait for you and for us to be old enough to consider marriage, once it's legal we'll start thinking out it more than we are now.

I can't picture anyone else being in your position Harry. I've never been in love before this and there's no one who could possible make me surpass this feeling towards you, I want to run around telling everyone that you're so so beautiful, even with not a hair on your body because you are. You could be blue and I would still love you just as much as I do now. Don't you see? You were made for me and we're togehter now and almost nothing can stop us (save Cancer) but that's not going to get in our way nearly as much as more other types of problematic things.

I have to go, it's nearly 2:00 in the morning.

Love,

Louis


	2. Letter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or the one where Louis is hoping for Chemo to work on Harry.

Dear Harry,

It's 2:54 and I can't sleep. I don't like spending my days at school. Not only am I away from you, but everyone just stares at me and expects me to cry all the time. The only reason I'm not crying is because you told me that if we pretend it would be okay, it would be. I don't want to let you down Harry.

The doctors told your mom that the Chemo wasn't working fast enough so they've started to double the quantities they give you just to try and get rid of the cancer. I know it's for the better, but I miss being able to talk for more than fifteen minutes. I know you don't mean to but you normally fall asleep whenever we talk. I don't mind sitting there with you. You're so beautiful. I wish my hair was curly like yours was. Is that evil of me to say? I miss playing with your hair. You probably miss it more than I do.

Lots of people have been asking about you. They ask how your feeling, how the treatment is working and how much longer you'll have to be in hospital. I don't know how you're feeling cause you don't tell me. I can tell you're hurting and the treatment is hurting you a lot, but I don't want to spread anything I'm not sure of. I tell them that your dosage as been upped, and that your stay in the hospital is undeterminable. 

It's weird not having you beside my locker, it's weird not walking you to class. I miss being with you around school. Your last day was devastating. You cleared out your locker and I carried your stuff to the car. I remember you crying on my shoulder before your mom drove you home. It wasn't that long ago- has it even been a month yet?

Your friends from school have started giving me cards for you. I used to prop them up on your bedside table but there were too many so I started to tape them to the walls. You have seventeen now. The teachers send you nice cards with wishes of recovery. Most of the student made cards just say get well soon. I don't know if I could fit everything I want to say to you into a card. It'd be tricky. Your mom says to stay hopeful. I told her I'll never lose my faith in you. 

I've been talking with your mom a lot lately. She sits with me on the chairs in your room late at night. She's been telling me stories about your childhood. I know it's wrong and I wish I would have found them out through you but you're usually not awake whenever I visit. She tells me about the carnival she used to take you and your sister to. She told me that you used to win Gemma a stuffed animal every time you went from your own pocket money to make sure she had at least one new toy when you guys returned home. She tells me that Gemma still has those toys somewhere in her room. 

Gemma's coming to visit in two weeks. She's busy this week because it's the week before her spring break and this is technically exam week. She would come sooner but her scholarship requires good grades to keep her enrolled in school. She knows it's selfish but after this exam period she's made an agreement with her professors to skip the coming term. They don't have any complaints and wish you a steady recovery. Your mom has spent most of her time in the hospital, looking after you. She knows that the hospital provides nurses for such needs but she wants to be there just in case. 

She's having a meeting with tomorrow. I'm going to try and leave school early so I can find out what it's about. She says it ends at 4:00, I finish school at 3:55. If I sprint I'll be here at 4:10. 

If I want to get here on time I better rest up. 

Remember that book that everyone's supposed to read in 8th grade? The Outsiders? 

Stay gold, ponyboy. 

Love you,  
Louis


	3. Letter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or the one where Louis finds out that the chemotherapy hasn't been working.

Dear Harry,

I got to the hospital at 4:04. Ran as fast as my legs could take me. I'm having a hard time writing this. Usually these letters were easy and relaxing. This one isn't. 

The meeting with the doctor that your mom had today went the opposite of well. He told her that the Chemo wasn't working at all in your body and that it was rejected from your system because they doubled the amount being injected. 

This is the first letter that I'm speechless. All of these cards seem to mock us now. He did say that there were some other options. The most popular being radiotherapy. Your mom enrolled you right away. She and I are sitting in the waiting room now. She thinks I'm doing course work. Not that she cares. She's been staring at the wall with tears sliding down her cheeks then onto the tile floor all afternoon. I wish I could hug her Harry. When I tried to last time she just stood there. She's empty. I'm staying hopeful because I know you'll get better. She just needs a bit of improvement in your condition to get her sense of self back. Please improve Harry. For everyone's peace of mind. 

We all need you here. 

Gemma aced her tests. She still doesn't know anything. She's scheduled to come next Thursday evening. Your mom wants to tell her then because she wants to be able to hold Gemma. She also doesn't want to beak the news over the phone. It's tough talking to your sister and knowing more about her brother than you do. Luckily you were so clear about not liking how people asked how you were doing so it's been driven into our heads to not even formulate the question anymore. It makes emitting the truth to her a whole lot easier. I just wish you would get better so we could couple the bad news with some good. 

You've been in the radiation room for a long time. They say you're under so much pain that they've started regulating your waking hours and injecting you with special drugs to keep you from feeling anything. I don't remember the name but I'll find it out eventually. So many nurses are in and out of your room all the time. They know what they're talking about. They can help me understand. 

You're due out in five minutes. I haven't gotten any coursework done at all. 

I love you,  
Louis


	4. Letter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or the one where Lous is anticipating the test results for the Radiation's effectiveness.

Dear Harry,

You look so peaceful when you sleep. Instead of tossing and turning like you used to, you just lay in one position. I think it's the medicine that the doctors have been pumping into you. It's been three days. I spoke to you once and we kissed a little bit before you felt light headed and then fell back asleep. I've contemplated making you a t-shirt that says 'Sleeping Beauty' on it. 

The doctors say that the testing labs are closed on Saturdays so we'll find out the results of radiation on Monday. I'm still hoping that we'll have some good news to tell Gemma when she arrives on Thursday. 

I remember you once telling me that Friday was your favorite day of the week and that knowing that the week full of work was coming to a close was the most exciting feeling ever. Since I remember that, I tried to make this Friday special for you. I bought you flowers and a teddy bear. When you woke up I couldn't stop talking with you so I forgot to mention it and you ended up falling asleep before I could tell you what day it was. 

The painting I started of you turned out to look really weird. It's obviously you but I still have to work on it for a long while until it's good enough for you to see. It's got a pretty blue background. It's a gradient from a really pale blue to a dark midnight blue. I tried to model it from the sky. Or day and night (like the Kid Cudi song). 

Knowing that you're relaxed now instead of in agony every time a treatment started makes me feel so much better. It makes me widener why we didn't try radiation before? I should probably look into it. Google, here I come!

I feel bad wasting all my time on somewhat useless things when you have a limited time a day to talk to people. I wish we could trade places. Oh what I wouldn't give for you to be healthy and happy again. I've missed your smile, but I've grown accused to your cute little scarf wrapping around your bald head or your (what you call high fashion but is actually just girly) floppy hats. Remind me to take you proper hat shopping when you're better. I'll even buy you some ridiculously gorgeous hats that you would one hundred percent love. 

Your mom just told me that two days ago you cried when you saw yourself in a mirror and noticed that your hair was all gone. I want to just hold you tight and kiss you and tell you how gorgeous you are. Instead, I made an appointment this afternoon to the local barber's shop. I'll write more about it tomorrow okay? I'm about to tell your mom if my decision.

Love,  
Louis


End file.
